


Andy Serkis: Critical & Precious

by skysonfire



Series: Andy Serkis [1]
Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works, The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Devilish Midweek Divulgence, F/M, Fanfiction, Gollum - Freeform, One Shot Collection, Performance Capture, Porn With Plot, Short Encounters, Smeagol - Freeform, Smut with a Story, Tumblr, www.devilish-midweek-divulgence.tumblr.com
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-27
Updated: 2014-09-27
Packaged: 2018-02-19 00:16:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2367197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skysonfire/pseuds/skysonfire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written for the Devilish Midweek Divulgence "hump day" blog (www.devilish-midweek-divulgence.tumblr.com), this was my first shot at writing a smutty piece featuring Andy Serkis. Photo edits associated with the piece can be found on the Tumblr blog site. Enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote>





	Andy Serkis: Critical & Precious

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Devilish Midweek Divulgence "hump day" blog (www.devilish-midweek-divulgence.tumblr.com), this was my first shot at writing a smutty piece featuring Andy Serkis. Photo edits associated with the piece can be found on the Tumblr blog site. Enjoy!

Maybe I was a little too drunk to be reading, or excited — it was hard to tell. There had been a lot of wine and walking. My feet hurt from pounding the London pavement in heels just a bit too high, and my head ached from the bobby pins that had held my hair just a bit too tightly. It was OK – his hands had been on me all night long. Even the intensity of his worked palm against the small of my back was enough to make my adrenaline pump, even the way he handed over my wine glass with that childish smile was enough to make my endorphins excite in a way that made me feel like I was soaring through the atmosphere; my head dizzy from short breaths when he would pull me close to talk over all the talking. He had me so twisted up, and he had no idea. I could tell by the way his expressive eyes tinted with something that translated uncertainty. It made me smile. He had no idea how he had me; the hoops through which he could make me jump, the promises he could force me to make, the circus act he could command I perform.

I shifted under the cool sheets, the air from the open window fondling gently the skin of my fresh, clean face. I didn’t look up from the book when he walked in, but my heart raced so hard — I swore that he would be able to see it through the thin tank I wore.

He looked out the window before he paused at the foot of the bed.

“It’s hard to tell whether you’re completely riveted or utterly bored.”

I could feel his smile and I tossed the book aside to look at him. He was a casual heartbreak in wide leg sweatpants and a simple tee. His feet were bare and my eyes were bleary. For the first time that night, my voice abandoned me.

He pushed my bent knees apart and crawled onto the bed, his movements so trained and fluid. His face came up on me like a specter in the night, and his eyes blazed enormous and sapphire in the artificial light that streamed in through the window. He was so alarming; his wild hair a mess of highly-piled dark curls, the sides pushed back and pointed silvery. My fingers braided their way through that nest of hair, the oil of his scalp touching my fingertips in the most sensitive way; it made me mad. This quirky, eccentric, chameleon of a character that had infiltrated my heart and elevated me to some strange emotional royalty.

I pulled him near, my palms rubbing against the close-clipped stubble of his face, but he didn’t entertain me with words. He touched his lips to mine, their feathery caress driving me wild. I tongued at his mouth and his kiss grew with ardor. He moaned just a bit using the voice that I loved; the voice that everyone knew, but tipped with a tone that was exclusively mine.

Breathy yearning escaped my throat, and when his fingers brushed the inside of my moistened thigh, I shook. He was consuming me; everything that I had, and I had never wanted anything so intently. It was so critical, and so, so precious.


End file.
